


See, I Can't Get Enough Of A Good Thing

by PastelBlueDahlia



Series: Victuuri Smut [3]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Blow Jobs, Body Shots, Come Eating, Come Swallowing, Coming Untouched, Deepthroating, Drunk Sex, M/M, Masturbation, NSFW Victuuri Week 2017, Tequila, Utter Filth, What Have I Done, day 4: free day, fluff if you squint
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-16
Updated: 2017-07-16
Packaged: 2018-12-02 15:41:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11512419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PastelBlueDahlia/pseuds/PastelBlueDahlia
Summary: „Tada!“ Yuuri exclaims, swinging the bottle in his hand. „Look what I found.“„Don‘t you think you had enough to drink?“„Do you?“ he asks earnestly, and does that thing where he looks up to Viktor from under his lashes because he knows how Viktor loves it, and it seems to take effect immediately. He grabs Yuuri‘s waist tighter, and Yuuri can only smirk at him, his eyes dropping half lidded as he thinksGot you„What did you have in mind?“ Viktor asks, and god, Yuuriloves, loves, loveshow he looks at him, his brows furrowed in desperation, the longing making his voice hoarse and his accent thicker, and now two hands under his dress shirt, electrifying as they scrape impatiently with their fingernails into his skin, not quite making marks yet but god, how Yuuri wishes theywould.„This is something we often did in college,“ Yuuri explains while putting a lemon wedge in between Viktor‘s lips.„Body shots.“ he adds and watches with delight as Viktor‘s eyes widen.- - - - -Yuuri and Viktor try doing bodyshots which ends in some drunk sex and deepthroating





	See, I Can't Get Enough Of A Good Thing

 

 

 

Viktor‘s tinkling laugh resonates through the living room. The lamp hangs low, almost directly over their heads, and spends a warm light that‘s not overpowering, but almost does nothing to brighten up the room. On the table is a large pile of sunflower seeds on napkins, and everyone has their own little pile besides their mugs, filled with black tea.  
  
They sit around this tiny table, and they look happy, like a family even, and Yuuri feels as if he would look at this famous painting where dogs play poker, because here he feels equally misplaced and unable to fit in, too different to fully understand their quirks. Then Viktor looks up and his smile widens, his eyes sending out sparks which is ridiculous but Yuuri sees it with his own eyes, and his heart clenches with the love he feels for this man who seems to be millions of kilometers away, even though it would only take five steps to be by his side, to touch him how he so desperately wants, _needs_ to.  
  
Viktor waves at him, telling him to come closer, and Yuuri‘s smile feels a bit strained on his face. Which is still okay, because it‘s only for now. Not permanent.  
  
Viktor stands up and maneuvers him to sit down on his chair, even though Yuuri protests, then goes to get a new one for himself. Yuuri still feels misplaced and foreign, but Viktor is there and tries to explain to him how to eat semetschki, how he calls the seeds.

„Okay, so you have to bite into the seam, and you bite on time quickly,“ a little crack from between Viktor‘s lips „By the front, and then you bite down all the way at the end, twist and then you have the core!“ he exclaims happily, and then furrows his brows „Or was the word pit?“ he asks earnestly, and he seems almost like a kid in that moment and Yuuri just has to lean over and kiss him directly in front of the others.

Viktor‘s eyes are sending out so many sparks it feels like Yuuri will be set on fire.  
  
When he tries to do as Viktor told him the only thing that happens is that he gets tiny splinters on his tongue that hurt his throat and are impossible hard to shallow, the salt burning on his chapped lips.  
  
Yurio sneers at him, shaking his head and Mila laughs brightly in a non-mocking way, while Yakov and Georgi are just silently smiling and cracking more seeds with their teeth. Yuuri feels his cheeks heat up, which is surprisingly only partly because of embarrassment.  
  
Russian summers are hot, the air humid from the closeness to the Baltic Sea, making everyone glister with a thin layer of sweat. Viktor‘s dress shirt clings to his skin tightly, carving his sharp shoulder blades out like fine marble, and Yuuri watches with a smile how different they looked now, not tired and slumped but relaxed, occasionally trembling when he laughes very hard.

This scene feels achingly intimate, a family sitting together, laughing, talking, fighting, brimming over with life. It feels like Yuuri intrudes on something, as if a new layer of Viktor has come off and now he holds it in his hand and doesn‘t know how to look at him anymore, even though Viktor does his best to make him feel welcome just like the rest of them. But there is something about Yakov‘s apartment, about how they sometimes just slip into Russian, how fast they can open their semetschki, how terribly, _terribly_ he misses his family that makes him feel like a bystander who, through a weird twist of fate, sits with them now.  
  
It makes him wonder how Viktor could so seamlessly blend in with his family, could make them love him so unconditionally even though there was this language barrier. Even though now they spoke English, it felt like they spoke something else entirely. But Yuuri wants to do better for the sake of Viktor.  
  
After a while Yakov wants to play a card game called Durak, and while they set up the game Yuuri and Viktor go to the kitchen to fetch some shot glasses and vodka. The trip lasts a bit longer because Viktor has to make sure to kiss Yuuri senseless in the dark kitchen, letting him taste the salt from his puffy, swollen red lips. Yuuri shoves a leg in between Viktor‘s, resting his hands on Viktor‘s shoulder and ass, chasing the taste of black tea and salt and _Viktor_ until he pulls away with a dazed, debauched look on his face. He huffs little hot breaths of air against Yuuri‘s lips, a thin trail of spit connecting them before Viktor beams at Yuuri devilishly with that frustratingly perfect tilt of his mouth, turning the light on to get the vodka.  
  
Yuuri grips weakly on the counter behind him, then turns around to press his hot forehead against the cool kitchen counter, trying to take deep breaths to stifle his arousal.  
  
Viktor laughs brightly, loud, and Yuuri gets the glasses and hurries down the corridor.

 

 

 

The drinking then fuses together into a snapshot like haze. Viktor‘s hand on the bottle, the graceful lines of his shifting muscles on his hands and bare forearms, the prominent veins, the bright smile with that maddening perfect heart shaped cupids bow, the rhythmic crack of the sunflower seeds, the knock from glass on wood, a burn in his throat and puffy, salt bitten lips, a firm press of a hand on his thigh, unnoticed under the table, sliding further up, Viktor‘s smile brighter which each new claimed centimeter.  
  
Yuuri is stumbling and laughing, nodding off in the cab, the air way too humid and Viktor‘s arms too hot on his body, being carried and then standing in their apartment, the white nights of St. Petersburg spending enough comfortable dimness. Yuuri walks into the kitchen and rummages around, a smile splitting his face when he finally finds what he looked for.  
  
„ _Tada!_ “ Yuuri exclaims, swinging the bottle in his hand. „Look what I found,“ he says, his voice a little raspy, hoarse, and Viktor‘s eyes get dark as his lips curl into a smirk. He slowly walks up to him, gripping him by the waist, his free hand slowly reaching for the bottle. Viktor seems to sway a bit, his hair so bright in the half-dark.  
  
„Don‘t you think you had enough to drink?“ he asks, a rumble in his chest Yuuri can feel vibrating through himself. It feels like a test.  
  
So Yuuri quickly stretches his hand out of Viktor‘s reach, pressing their chests flush together with a little impact that makes Viktor huff. He feels a strange sense of competitiveness as he looks up in Viktor‘s smug face, his eyes challenging him. Yuuri wants to break him.

„Do _you?_ “ he asks earnestly, and does that thing where he looks up to Viktor from under his lashes because he knows how Viktor loves it, and it seems to take effect immediately because his eyes get a little wider and he swallows audibly. He grabs Yuuri‘s waist tighter, as if he needs to ground himself, and Yuuri can only smirk at him, his eyes dropping half lidded as he thinks _Got you._  
  
„What did you have in mind?“ Viktor asks, and god, Yuuri _loves, loves, loves_ how he looks at him so pleadingly as if only Yuuri could still his hunger, his brows furrowed in desperation, neediness, the longing making his voice hoarse and his accent thicker, and now two hands under his dress shirt, electrifying as they scrape impatiently with their fingernails into his skin, not quite making marks yet but _god_ , how Yuuri wishes they _would._  
  
And Yuuri leans forward a bit, getting on shaky tip toes, his eyes flickering to Viktor‘s red, puffy lips in the dimmed light of the white nights and a hand playfully teasing the nape of Viktor's neck, the bottle pressed flush against both of their shoulders, making a gurgling noise at the shift of position.  
  
„Do we have lemons?“

 

 

 

A couple of minutes later and after they survived a dangerous mixture of giggling, tickling and cutting lemons they go to their bed, sitting down with lemon wedges, the tequila bottle, a little pot of salt and two shot glasses.

„This is something we often did in college,“ Yuuri explains while filling two shots, putting a lemon wedge in between Viktor‘s lips. He grimaces as the juice drips onto his swollen, chapped lips and Yuuri feels a pang of sympathy.  
  
„ _Body shots,_ “ he adds and watches with delight as Viktor‘s eyes widen.  
  
He seems to want to say something, rising his hand to get the lemon wedge out of his mouth, but Yuuri leans forward quickly and sinks his teeth into the lemon flesh, then licks Viktor‘s salty lips. His lips only taste a bit like salt, mostly because Yuuri kissed it off in the cab already, but the little whimper Viktor makes, his brows furrowed in neediness is a good enough reason to pretend. Yuuri sets the glass to his lips, watching Viktor intently as he gulps the tequila down.  
  
„Your turn,“ he says, smiling innocently at Viktor. He only nods weakly and takes the empty glass and the tequila. Yuuri lays down fully on the bed and Viktor follows the invitation immediately to straddle his hips, placing the lemon wedge sideways into Yuuri's mouth. He looks at Yuuri quietly for a moment, thinking, and then tries to fill the shot glass, but miraculously he manages to spill everything on Yuuri‘s shirt instead. The shot glass remains completely empty.  
  
„ _Oh, how terrible!_ “ he exclaims, his hand thrown over his mouth in fake shock „I‘m _so_ sorry, I guess I‘m more tipsy than I _thought!_ “ his voice is so exaggerated that Yuuri wants to bite his lip and see him wince. He rolls his eyes instead, trying desperately not to laugh.  
  
Yuuri takes the lemon wedge out of his mouth and says: „Help me get it off.“

„Of course!“ Viktor says happily, too happy almost, and Yuuri tries to hide his smile under his hand. Viktor reaches for the buttons, then he stills in his movement and looks up to Yuuri, a silent question in his eyes, almost pleading. Yuuri knows what he wants, and feels almost bad when he has to deny him that one thing.  
  
„You can‘t rip it.“  
  
„But Yuuri!“  
  
Okay, actually he doesn‘t feel bad at all.  
  
Yuuri could be sweet, but now he wants to bite.  
  
„You bought it for me, right? I would feel bad if I would ruin your present,“ he says sweetly, innocently, even fluttering his eyelashes. Viktor pouts with furrowed brows and Yuuri‘s world sways a bit as the tequila finally seems to take an effect, and he wants to reach up and kiss him senseless. Viktor _is made_ for kissing.  
  
„But it would be okay if I ruin it, right?“ he asks suddenly, his eyes gleaming and a wide, toothy smile on his face before Yuuri hears the noise of fabric being torn and the sharp pull on his upper body. The buttons fling everywhere and Yuuri gasps in shock.

„Mm, I really like this.“ Viktor says as he smiles down at Yuuri, his hands roaming over Yuuri‘s sticky chest and moving his hips deliberately, making Yuuri remember the times when Viktor rode him.  
  
„I‘ve spoiled you rotten, haven‘t I?“  
  
Viktor only tips his head back and laughs.

 

 

 

„Don‘t come yet Vitya, try to keep up.“ Yuuri laughs, grabbing Viktor‘s ass to press him more against his body, and _god,_ Viktor tastes _s_ _o good_. He stops grinding down on Yuuri and grins smugly. „Don‘t worry about me,“ he says and grinds down again, lining up perfectly with Yuuri. Then he leans up to grab the tequila again, spilling it on Yuuri‘s chest to lick it down immediately from his heated skin.  
  
The heat in his gut is pooling quickly, and he can feel his cock throbbing as Viktor circles his nipple and navel, places that make him squirm and laugh because he is too damn ticklish. Then he comes back up to bite into the lemon Yuuri holds in his hand, wincing as if he is in pain. Yuuri runs his thumb over Viktor‘s swollen, red bottom lip and then leans up to kiss him, tasting the alcohol and lemon on his tongue, but no Viktor.

It is hard not to kiss Viktor, but Yuuri has a plan. So he gets up, Viktor looking at him with that faint, mesmerizing blush, his whole face dazed and obviously hard as he begins to strip. The tequila shoots in his brain the moment he stands up, and he stumbles a bit, but he can manage. He knows it‘s not exactly sexy like this and more functional the way he is shrugging off his dress shirt, pants and underwear, but he feels like he doesn't have enough time. Viktor seems like he doesn‘t mind and starts taking off his pants and underwear too, slowly unbuttoning his dress shirt with shaky fingers, leaving it on in the end because he can't open the last few buttons.  
  
It‘s freeing to finally take the clothes off, and he feels lightheaded and turned on and _needy_. Yuuri opens a drawer and pulls out some lube. He leaves the condoms inside, smiling at them.  
  
He gently takes one of Viktor‘s hands and pulls him from the bed.  
  
„I need you to keep standing, okay?“ Viktor nods with a smile so bright that Yuuri wants to wipe it out of his face with pleasure, and he can‘t help but grin as he gets down on his knees in front of Viktor, slicking his fingers up with lube.  
  
Yuuri circles his entrance with lube, smiling as he feels it flicker against his cold finger. Viktor grabs his shoulder tightly, and Yuuri already knows that by the end of it, he will have red marks engraved into his skin. He slowly begins to push in.

Viktor closes his eyes and tips his head back, biting his lip. Yuuri can feel himself leaking already, and his mouth waters with Viktor‘s cock so close to his mouth, fully hard and leaking at the tip but he wants to give Viktor everything, wants to make him drown in pleasure, and for that he has to properly stretch him.  
  
Viktor‘s moans get hoarse with time, and after three fingers fit into him Yuuri finally curls them and searches for his prostate. Viktor practically jumps forward with an unexpected yelp. He looks down at Yuuri, eyes wide and that blush on his cheeks, his skin cooled down how it always does when they have sex, and Yuuri locks their eyes, smirks and licks a wet stripe up his cock.  
  
Viktor makes this amazing sound that sounds like a gasp and a moan, and Yuuri can barely take him in his mouth with how much he smiles. Instead, he circles the head, licking up the precum by the slit, slides over the rigde and he has so much _fun_ with how wrecked Viktor sounds, with how his knees buckle and his perfectly manicured, almond shaped nails painfully dig into Yuuri's naked shoulders. He has to take a long, shuddering breath through his nose as he feels shivers rippling down his spine, shivering at the sensation.  
  
He punishes Viktor as he takes his cock all the way to the back of his throat, suppressing his gag reflex and hums, his tongue on the underside of his cock and tracing the thick vein. Viktor cries out something in Russian, and Yuuri‘s hand finds its way to his own, neglected cock.  
  
This time Yuuri moans as he finally touches himself and looks up at Viktor. Surprisingly, he looks directly at him. His red mouth is parted slightly, his hair falling into his face and his eyes are sizzling and sending sparks as if he wants to challenge him.

Yuuri gladly accepts.  
  
He takes a deep breath and then relaxed his throat, taking Viktor deeper. He only tried this a handful of times and he always had to stop because of his gag reflex, but now he is drunk and determined and wants to deep throat like the embodiment of Eros he played on the ice.  
  
His mind is now completely fuzzy and the alcohol has more effect than before, and he hopes that Viktor can feel the burn of the tequila on his cock, because his throat is surely still burning. Or rather, burning because of Viktor. And Yuuri gets frustrated because all he wanted was to taste Viktor, and now his lips and tongue not only taste like tequila, salt and lemon, but his cock is stuffed in so deep he would only shallow immediately without tasting anything.  
  
So he makes sure to listen closely to Viktor, makes sure to take in every moan, every time he gasps his name, how he shakes to not fuck into Yuuri's mouth and how his nails keep digging into his skin to determine when he comes. His own hand around his cock gets faster and faster, and the idea that starts to form in his head is filthy and new, and he feels jittery and _excited._  
  
Yuuri looks up one last time into his eyes, and Viktor‘s whole face crinkles as if he is about to cry, and then he finally hears the beautiful words „Stop Yuuri, you have to s-stop, I‘ll-“ and he pulls away so quickly he gets dizzy, the loud _pop_ so obscene he fucks his own fist even harder, faster, and opens his mouth wide to catch all of Viktor‘s come.  
  
Some of it gets on his lip, even some tiny streaks on his cheek, but the most of it lands in Yuuri‘s waiting mouth, and with his tongue stretched out he looks up at Viktor, showing off.

His face flickers with emotions, a mix of shock and awe.  
  
Yuuri lets go of his cock to get the tequila and lemons, opening his mouth wide and holding the items up for Viktor to use. His eyes get impossible wider and his cheeks are redder than Yuuri has ever seen before.  
  
He firstly grabs the lemon and squeezes the juice out with shaky, trembling fingers. Some trickles down his chin all the way to his chest, but Yuuri doesn't mind. If he could he wouldn‘t even _blink_ to not miss anything of Viktor‘s expression. Then he slowly pours tequila into Yuuri's open mouth, and Yuuri shallows hungrily and something settles into his mind that calms him, as if that was what he needed all this time. Something that settles his restlessness.  
  
This is probably the strangest thing he has ever tasted, but the tequila only leaves a burning in his mouth and throat, something that stings now even more after he had taken Viktor‘s cock that deep.  
  
Without touching himself further, he comes.  
  
Something tingles down his spine and he _feels_ himself moaning, or screaming, or both but can‘t hear it, and his vision gets white, his muscles tense. It's so suddenly, but honestly not the least unexpected. Dazed, he looks at his own, now white fingers.

He smiles at the thought of what he did a couple of seconds ago.  
  
And then his eyes widen mortified because of what he did a couple of seconds ago.  
  
„ _Fuck..._ “ he mutters and looks up into Viktor's equally wide, shocked eyes. „I just did that.“  
  
Viktor stares at him for a second before he falls on the bed and immediately turns to his side, curled into a small ball as he covers his red face with both hands.  
  
„You‘re going to _kill me_ , Yuuri,“ he whines, and Yuuri sits next to him, his knees red and hurting. The contrast between Viktor‘s neck and that bit he can see from his jaw is great with his pale hands, and he thinks _I just did that to Viktor. I make him blush like that._  
  
„As you- you swallowed I thought I would come again… actually, just give me a couple of seconds and I can come just from the memory alone.“ Yuuri blinks at him and then starts laughing and can‘t stop anymore. He trows himself on Viktor and starts kissing his face, or rather his hands covering his face, because he feels too light-headed and _loves, loves, loves._  
  
„God, you‘re _so_ cute. So adorable, so perfect,“ he laughs and kisses and his belly starts hurting and finally Viktor looks at him again.  
  
„You‘re spoiling me.“

Yuuri laughs again but bites his lip to be at least able to talk „Can‘t help it,“ he says, and a grin spreads across Viktor's face that is simply gorgeous.

 

 

  
Yuuri doesn‘t remember falling asleep, but he surely remembers waking up.  
  
Viktor starts hitting him lightly to wake him up, panicking and on the verge of crying because his hair is practically glued to Yuuri's sticky chest, and it takes ten whole minutes for Yuuri to calm Viktor down enough ("You won't get bald, your hair is fine!") and walk very, very, very slowly and glued together in an awkward way to the bathroom to wash away the tequila, lemon and come.  
  
(It was still worth it)  
  
Finally free, Viktor sighs and laughs, leaning back in their bathtub.  
  
„I hope you didn‘t do that in college.“  
  
The first one who starts crying from laughing too hard is Yuuri, and then both of them can't stop for a long, long time.

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I have no idea what happened here. I wrote this a couple of weeks back in one go when it was really late and pulled this out again and finished it and wow. I had this idea and just thought "Oh god, this is so perverse and lewd" and I'm still so conflicted because this is literal food porn and I don't know why I wrote this. But I at least kind of liked the start especially because it is different from my usual writing style but then it got kind of jumbled and I'm not so happy with it how I thought I would. The smut is so poorly written, I'm sorry
> 
> Also the sunflower seeds are sometimes covered in salt so that's why Viktor's lips were salty! And god, the hardest part about this chapter was explaining how to open them like wtf.
> 
> I hope you could still enjoy reading this a little and I am so sorry


End file.
